An Alchemist's Dilemma
by duchess-susan
Summary: Cassandra is back and learning just how dysfunctional unlife can get when you're a member of the Watch. Sequel to 'An Alchemist's Progress', but can be read seperately.
1. Chapter 1

**Yes-it's a sequel-our favourite vampire alchemist is back. Enjoy, everyone, and thanks to everyone who reviewed 'An Alchemist's Progress'. And special thanks to She Who Shines for the title.**

An Alchemist's Dilemma

'My name is Cassandra Larimar, but you know that. I've been a vampire for eight months now. I've been b-total for all of that time. And dying did one very important thing to me. It forced be to change. I'm not the person I was. Or the person I wanted to be. I'm just a constable in the Watch with an affinity for chemicals. But that's okay, I think.'

She sat down, feeling like a complete idiot. Reg always wanted people to make speeches about what their unlife was like, and how they had overcome dying to accept immortality, or something like it. For weeks he'd been telling her that she had to tell the other members of the Fresh Start Club something more about herself and what her life, or afterlife, had been like. He'd told her everyone was terribly interested. That was probably the truth. The meetings were horrifically boring normally and anything would be welcomed if it provided a diversion for a minute or so.

The trouble was that when it was Reg asking it was extremely hard to say no, at least for the fiftieth time. Zombies were as persistent as vampires were meticulous. Besides, as little as she wanted to admit this he was _Reg. _She admired his enthusiasm, his never-ending hope, admittedly from a distance in case the heat of it singed her eyebrows. The point was that he was an idealist, a _dreamer, _and she didn't really want to rob him of that_._ She knew how it felt.

She was, however, considering robbing Count Notfaroutoe of the ability to speak for a while. He was still trying to ask for advice on reasonably-priced crypts. She'd never even _been _in one. She hadn't really had the time or money to try the 'oh-so-gothic-and-dark' vampire lifestyle. So far she had sampled the 'ostracised-for-being-a-bit-peckish' vampire, and the 'desperate-depressed-but-reformed' bloodsucker and had alighted on 'crazed-in-a-non-harmful-way' b-totaller. It the Count had wanted to know about rates of reaction, alkali metals and the search for the elixir of life she would have been ideal. But crypts? No.

She tried to stifle a yawn, but then decided vampires were allowed to be a _little _evil and pointedly raised her hand to her mouth to emphasis it. The Count didn't take the hint, but Reg saw and mouthed _'behave' _at her.

She rolled her eyes, then said 'Things have been very hectic at work. And I'm sorry, I have no idea where you can hire an inexpensive builder who specializes in gothic towers in this city.' _Although knowing Ankh-Morpork there'll be one somewhere. There always is._

'Try being in the fruit and veg trade.' The Countess had decided it was high time she spoke for her husband. Cassandra was surprised she hadn't interrupted before.

_Yeah, because I'll bet you the cabbages try to throw holy water over you just because you wear a Watch uniform. And the apples must surely form religious symbols out of spite occasionally. Don't even mention the garlic, it must be lethal-actually maybe I _should _give them some credit. It's a brave vampire that will sell garlic to the population._

Cassandra made an effort to expunge thoughts of alliums from her mind.

Which was when Ixolite pressed a note into her hand. She smiled at him. Poor Ixolite. Whilst she would be the first to testify that vampirism was no picnic there was nothing sadder than a banshee with a speech impediment _and _self-confidence issues. Which was why everyone always made an effort to be kind to him. Once she'd heard some wizard claim that vampires had _evolved _from banshees. She could sort of see where the idea came from. Although she didn't have wings she could fly unaided, and they had the same complexions and room-temperature...um...temperatures. And banshees were just as strong as vampires. Both were unhealthly thin, but only vampires had that unique ability to be elegant, even when drunk. Banshees were...feral. What they had was not elegance but _power, _unsullied by grace or fangs. Except for Ixolite. He was just mournful.

She wondered if Ixolite had a reflection. It was one of the very best things about being a vampire. No reflection meant you could never see how bad you looked, which was probably why vampires always looked so damn _good. _A huge amount of perception is based on belief. And, if you can't see how rough you look then no one else will be allowed to suspect it, because self-belief can deny reality.

'Reg?' Cassandra took some satisfaction from the way his head jerked up at the sound of her voice. Normally zombies were very sparing in the energy stakes. She mentally scolded herself for enjoying the moderate amount of power she had over him. It was too close to what _bad _vampires did. They liked power too. 'Perhaps we should be getting back to the Yard? I told Carrot I'd be patrolling with Visit at one.'

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	2. Chapter 2

Patrolling with Visit was always an experience. It wasn't that he was a bad officer, it was just that every time she saw him he felt the need to inform her that Om accepted people regardless of mortal status. Cassandra had no idea how to tell him that she didn't really see why she should encourage any gods to take an interest in her. She had the horrible suspicion that they would find her life _comical. _And invite all the other deities in the neighbourhood around to watch and eat celestial popcorn together. She really didn't appreciate the idea of her life becoming a cosmic joke.

Take Reg and her, for example. It was so _illogical. _She was a vampire with a alchemy fixation and a tendency to blow herself up every other week. And he was a zombie. Zombies were the most flammable species on the entire Disc. She was sure someone somewhere must find that _hilarious. _

She became aware of a silence. When Visit was present this only occurred when he was waiting for a reply to something.

'Sorry, could you repeat that last bit? I'm still a little deaf after last week.' It had only been a minor explosion by Guild standards but for some reason Vimes had gone bursar. She thought he'd over-reacted. It had only been a few rooms. Okay, so she _had _destroyed the Watch's stockpile of teabags, but she'd put enough money in the tea kitty to make up for _that_. And no one had been hurt, except for her. Admittedly it might have been slightly traumatizing to find a vampire trying to pull themselves together in a smoking crater whilst crying 'no one panic, I know what I did wrong this time.' But Nobby had stopped whimpering after his third figgin. _And _her pay had been docked to pay for repairs. She preferred the office the way she had...redesigned it. More modern. More open-plan. Vimes hadn't appreciated this when she pointed it out to him.

'I asked if you have ever gone to church.'

Cassandra stared at Visit for a few moments before recovering. 'Um I don't know if you've noticed but I'm a _vampire. _We aren't exactly big on religious buildings.'

Visit frowned at her. 'A positive attitude could help. Anyway everyone knows you survived holy water, and that's supposed to be a fairly efficient method of reducing a vampire to ash.'

Cassandra rolled her eyes. 'Try francium if you want to be reduced to a small pile of ash. Look that was heat of the moment stuff okay? It was desperate. I was out of my mind by that point.'

Visit gave her a sarcastic look that clearly communicated the words _'you? Insane? Never.'_

'I _meant _that I was in no state to pay attention to any devout molecules that happened to have landed on me. And before you ask I never bothered with religion before becoming a child of the night.'

Visit wasn't going to let go. 'But now could be the perfect time to invite Om into your life.'

'I'm _dead. _I thought you were supposed to bother with religion _before _you died. Like insurance for when you quit this mortal coil. But then it turned out that I was one of the minority who can get away without paying the premiums, because it's never going to happen to me. Not permanently.'

Visit shook his head. 'You can't know that. And it's not just about eternal salvation. It's about being a good person.'

'I'm happy the way I am.'

'Really?'

'YES.' _Oops. I just got defensive. Maybe a smile would help at this point... _Cassandra employed the special vampire grin that made recipients consider garlic as so much more than a pungent flavouring.

Visit just ignored it and carried on spouting Omnian proverbs and advice.

Despite herself Cassandra did have a kind of grudging respect for Visit. Anyone who could withstand prolonged contact with Vimes and keep their faith was far stronger than your average church-goer.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to Sophoes and She Who Shines for the reviews. Cassandra stumbles on name clichés...blame Dracula, or rather Alucard, who started all that 'spell it backwards' nonsense.**

Upon returning to the Watch-house Cassandra returned to the makeshift lab that was the alchemy department of the Watch. Or forensics, as they liked to call it. Cassandra thought this was only because coppers never saw enough gold to want to be reminded of the stuff.

Angua came and lent on the doorframe.

'How's things?'

'Fine.' Cassandra tried to smile without allowing her lips to part. It is nearly impossible for a vampire to smile in a non-threatening way, but she could still _try. _

Angua seemed to want a little more of a conversation than that.

'How's Reg?'

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. 'Okay, thanks.' _I don't ask about Carrot now do I?_

'Okay? That means something's up.'

'No. It's just...'

'Yes?'

Cassandra was painfully aware that Cheri was listening too.

'He's just a little...overprotective.'

'How do you mean?' This was Cheri.

In defiance of biology Cassandra felt herself making a decent attempt at blushing. She muttered, 'he got very angry just because someone stabbed me. He told _Vimes, _and now Lars Quicksblade is in the Tanty on a charge of assaulting an officer.'

'Well he _did _stab you.' Cheri again.

'I suppose, but it was accidental. He was aiming for the barman.'

Realisation dawned on Angua's face. 'This was the localized riot on Tuesday, right? In the Drum?'

'Yes. And you were there. It was just a...large brawl. Not _quite _a riot. Anyway that's not the _point. _The point is that I am perfectly capable of fighting my own battles and it's not like it didn't _heal._'

'It's sweet though.' Cheri had seemingly given up on whatever arcane process she had been working on to join in this little chat.

Angua tried not to laugh when Cassandra pulled a face. 'Cass you're a member of the Watch. Even if you weren't undead or an alchemist you _still _wouldn't be able to have a normal life.'

_'Cass? _A vampire can't be referred to as Cass. We use our names backwards to be incognito. Cassandra becomes Ardnassac. Whereas Cass just becomes Ssac.'

'I thought you didn't do stereotypes? Anyway are you seriously proposing the Ssac is _worse _than Ardnassac? And do you really believe that spelling your name backwards will fool anyone?'

'Just this once I'm allowed to indulge in the stereotypical. Although now that you mention it, it _does _seem a little...obvious.'

Cheri piped up again. 'A slight modification of your name can to wonders, take it from me. Besides if you're Cass you might get a bit less of that seer nonsense.'

'Hmmm.' Cassandra tried to marshal a defence for her own name. Cassandra just had an imperious, imposing quality that a vampire should never turn down. On the other hand it was a little formal, perhaps, and Angua would probably call her whatever she liked. Werewolves could be like that. So...

'I can live with Cass. But only from the people within the Watch. And there really is nothing wrong with Cassandra.'

'I never said there was, Cass.' Angua was grinning.

_Okay, so it's growing on me. A little. But only because it's less of a mouthful._

'Anyone going to the Bucket tonight?' Cassandra was trying to change the subject before Angua suggested any other changes she might like to make. Like wearing something that wasn't either uniform or black. Or not carrying magnesium in her pockets.

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	4. Chapter 4

The Bucket was, as usual, half-full of off-duty coppers. Cassandra had learned to appreciate this. No one tried to start any fights, unless Nobby threatened to do something truly horrendous, like show off his collection of prize boils, or sing 'comic' songs. And you weren't casually mugged as you left the building. The Thieves' Guild didn't like to upset a Watchman who either needed a drink or had already had a few too many. _And _the other officers made her feel slightly more normal. Next to Nobby she was practically Miss Average. As opposed to Miss Slightly-Too-Unique-For-Her-Own-Good.

Right now, however, she was aiming for Miss Not-Totally-Losing-It. She really didn't want to repeat a few supposedly memorable moments she had had in the past while intoxicated. She said 'supposedly' memorable because she had no recollection whatsoever of them, but had been informed by several individuals that they were humorous, humiliating and unforgettable. So tonight she was _not _going to be drinking. Her and Vimes alone were sipping fruit juice, although Cassandra was trying very hard to avoid his scowl. She didn't think she could pull it off. And it would give her too many wrinkles. When you stand a reasonable chance of living forever you learn to be extremely wary of things like wrinkles and, say, losing your teeth. Missing fangs were hideously obvious.

'Cass?' This was from Carrot. Presumably Angua had informed him of the abbreviation. Cassandra rolled her eyes. The werewolf noticed and just shrugged innocently.

'Yes, Captain?'

'Do you not miss being an alchemist? Cheri was telling me about the differences between the Guild and the Watch.'

Cassandra had forgotten about Carrot's unrelenting urge to know people. Angua moaned about it occasionally.

'I guess I missed it for a little while. But the Guild doesn't have the...comradeship of the Watch. And I still get to mess around with chemicals. I'm just chasing criminals and evidence instead of precious metals.'

Carrot smiled and nodded. 'I'm glad to see you are enjoying policing so much.'

'Exactly what precious metals? Only they still haven't got gold, have they, and the ivory didn't work out.' Cheri was looking curious.

Cassandra snorted. 'Oh, after the ivory failure they went back to gold. Ha-they _know _they can't do it and they still carry on regardless. Silverfish thought traditionalism was the only way to go after Red Saturday. Whereas _I_ alighted on silver. Not as valuable as gold, but not as gaudy either. _And _you don't have to mess around with lead. Iron will do it.'

Silence greeted this. Vimes broke it.

'Are you seriously telling us you can turn iron into silver constable?'

'Oh yes. You just have to think outside the box.'

'And Silverfish knew this and he _still _fired you?'

'Dismissed, not fired. When you're fired from the Alchemists' it generally involves the chimney. I exited rather more conventionally through the door. And yes. He thought the silver was pointless. Asked me how I was going to get the Elixir of Life from a metal that tarnishes.'

'And you said?'

Cassandra tried not to look to smug. 'That I hardly needed another dose of immortality. It might send me full circle, right? Anyway me and Silverfish didn't get on much. He thought that an alchemist who could make mistakes and always survive them beat the system. He only kept me because I was good at dealing with the chemicals that gave off...unpleasant fumes and things. Said it saved him from having to sort out the ventilation. And because he thought that if anyone could produce gold from lead it was me. Being that I had the opportunity for so much more experience than the other alchemists. Anyway the night he cut himself was really just an excuse for him to fire me.'

Reg cut in. 'See? He _was _a vitalist.'

'Not really. It wasn't the undead he had a problem with. Just me.'

Angua grinned. 'I wonder why?'

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	5. Chapter 5

**Not at all sure about this chapter-please tell me what you think.**

All in all, Cassandra mused, her life had improved massively. Okay, so she was stuck going to Fresh Start meetings for the rest of her (un)life, and she still managed to misjudge chemicals occasionally, but other than that things were relatively normal, sane and uneventful. Which also translated to boring, except that working in the Watch was never dull. Especially since paperwork was treated with the same amount of respect as a wizard unable to hurl fireballs (or Rincewind, as most people knew him). Cassandra thought an organisation that's floor had _tides _due to the sheer sliding mass of paper must be doing something right. Admittedly it meant that if a dwarf officer fell over a full scale search and rescue mission had to be mounted, but Angua was getting very good at negotiating some of the trickier mounds.

So she was surprised and horrified to hear a voice on the wind, floating on the very edge of hearing. She was walking back down to Pseudopolis Yard with Nobby when she heard it.

_'Cassandra what have you done? What are you doing? Who's the coward now?'_

She stopped and looked around, glaring. She _knew _that voice, but then that was improbable at best.

_'Something wrong? Remember who you are. Stop trying to change.'_

She flinched at that. _I'm going mad. It's not possible. It's all psychological. I just need someone to defy or something so I've recreated him. He's very, very dead. I was there. He's deader than a bunch of alchemist's in a fireworks factory. And wasn't that a messy day? I don't know what it is with alchemists but we just have to try setting fire to things...Maybe I should have tried that on Pan. He wouldn't be talking to me from beyond the grave then. Although in a sense he's always been talking to me from beyond the grave..._

Cassandra's mind had an unfortunate tendency to gabble to itself when she panicked. Nobby saw the look on her face, and, as usual proved himself a poor translater of body language.

'It's been a long shift hasn't it? Mind starts to wander, sometimes, towards the end.'

Cassandra looked at him blankly. _Maybe, but only my mind returns from its little stroll with company. _'Yes. Yes. Sorry. Was away with the fairies' _demons _'just then.'

Nobby lit his perpetual dog-end. Cassandra began to wonder if the dog-end would outlive even her. _Well, we've both survived an equal amount of combustion. So it stands a fighting chance._

'Cass?'

_Oh my gods another one. Exactly how many people has Angua told to call me that? _'Yes?' She was slightly cautious. With Nobby you never knew what he might ask.

'You know all that "base metals to gold" stuff?'

'Traditional alchemy, yes.'

'I was wondering, if, like, if you ever got the hang of it you might see your way clear to giving me the formula? Supplementing my pay, kind of thing.'

'I think success is a long way off.'

'But you can do silver.'

'Gold is different.'

'Yeah.' Nobby scowled. 'It's more valuable.'

Cassandra sighed. 'You're as bad as Silverfish.'

_'And who are you as bad as?'_

The wind was talking again.

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	6. Chapter 6

Another week, another Fresh Start meeting.

'_Freak...'_

Cassandra woke from her boredom-induced coma when the voice began whispering again. _So I admit it might be a little more than coincidence now..._

_'What are you doing here?'_

She glared at Schleppel in the hope that Pan's voice was just a nightmare he was exploiting. But the bogeyman seemed engaged in an argument with Lupine. Something about shadows and moonlight.

So...nothing for it. Averting her face so no one could see her seemingly muttering to herself she murmured, 'this isn't funny Pan. I saw you die. _Properly.'_

_'Not quite. Dust to dust. Dust to blood...'_

'What does that mean?'

_'It would be so little fun if I just told you. Besides you might not behave the way I anticipated if you _knew. _No, I think you'll have to wait. If thinks work out I might just enlighten you. And your namesake was a _seer..._'_

'WOULD YOU STOP GOING ON ABOUT MYTHOLOGY!' Cassandra glanced upwards as she realised everyone was gawping at her.

Lupine shrugged. 'It was hardly mythology. More folklore.'

'Sorry. I wasn't talking to...that is...just thinking aloud.'

Reg frowned. 'Care to tell us what about?'

She shook her head mutely. The zombie leaned forward and the others descended into suspiciously loud conversation. 'What about telling me?'

A brief debate raged in Cassandra's already rather frantic mind. 'You really want to know? Pan. Pan is...around. I think. Maybe. I don't _know._' She sighed. She _hated _not knowing things. Especially when it came to sociopathic vampires who liked to test her debatable sanity to destruction.

'Not to be tactless, and the dead have a right to life, but he was..._staked. _We saw it.'

'Pan has never been that simple. Sorry. I have to go. The new samples need testing. See you back at the Yard?'

Nothing is more dramatic than a vampire making an entrance, unless it's a vampire making an exit.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the day had passed in a tense flash, leaving Cassandra alone in the 'lab' of Pseudopolis Yard with candles burning around her. It wasn't what she thought of as a lab. It was too...makeshift, too much of an afterthought. Equipment was left lying around on the benches. The Guild would have had a fit. Which, she suspected, might have been the point.

_'Dust to blood...' _What did that _mean? _The obvious answer was that any vampire could be revived if their ashes were exposed to blood. But Pan's ashes had been dispersed by the wind. She sighed. Sometimes her species' habit of rising from the grave more times than was really fair was incredibly irritating. Especially when it was Pan doing the rising.

_'Working late?'_

That was...infuriating. She stays late to try and figure out what he was up too, and _of course _he starts talking to her again. And right now she was alone. So a conversation with a disembodied voice was not likely to draw attention from colleagues who would then try and get her sectioned.

'Something like that.'

She thought she heard him laugh. The candles went out, conforming to narrative causality, and, nerves twanging, she jumped. This was probably not a wise thing to do in a lab, but sometimes instincts get things wrong. Her hand came down on a piece of fragile glassware, which broke and cut her palm. As the blood welled up a wind seemed to sweep through the room.

_'Thank you.' _

And suddenly Pan was standing in front of her. His red hair stood out in the gloom. She made a spirited attempt at not gasping with shock, instead hissing slightly between her gritted teeth as she exhaled.

'Not pleased to see me?'

'How on Disc did you do that?'

He smiled. 'With ease, once the theory came to me, the process was simple.'

A tendency that goes along with alchemy is an inability to accept ignorance. Despite herself Cassandra was intrigued. Pan had apparently done the improbable in resurrecting, and the information might prove useful. Especially considering her semi-responsibility in his death.

'You died. _Permanently.' _She was still hissing.

'Oh vampires never do _that.' _He put his head to one side as though weighing her up in order to make a decision. 'I suppose, as you _are _the one responsible for my return I should tell you. It's no fun gloating over the ignorant, is it?' He leaned forward and whispered, 'I may have been scattered ash, but in being scattered some of that ash found _you. _Remember what I did to your face?' He traced invisible lines on her cheeks, where months before he had drawn blood...

'Oh gods,' she murmured, then looked up sharply. 'But _all _the ash has to come into contact with blood before you can be revived.'

'True.' Pan was looking immensely pleased with himself. 'But _enough _ash had been exposed to your blood to allow my _consciousness _to return. And then I could find you, and whisper to you, and, perhaps, take the light away, so that you were left alone in the dark with me. I'm so _glad _your hand happened to land on that glass. I only needed a little more blood. Once you have consciousness you have _willpower. _Enough to use random breezes and fortunate winds to gather your _im_mortal remains, and _wait _for that little drop of blood.' 

'That's unbelievable.'

'That's vampirism.'

Right now Cassandra was wishing the candles were still alight. She could have done any number of interesting and inventively cruel things to Pan if she had a flame, mainly due to the various chemicals that were beguilingly close to hand. She reached for the matches, only to have Pan bat them out across the workbench and onto the floor.

'Haven't you learnt not to play with fire yet?'

Her eyes narrowed. Pseudopolis Yard was never completely empty. There would be people somewhere close by. There _had _to be. If she screamed people would come running, cautiously perhaps, since word of her alchemical mishaps had spread, but they would still come. And then Pan would probably kill them. And her. Because he thought it was _fun._ And because the Watch had killed him once before, but that was hardly the _point._

She saw green eyes glint dangerously and thought better of drawing attention to herself. He was a vampire who embraced stereotypes, why not exploit that?

'What are you going to do?'

'Enjoy myself. What else?'

'Your definition of 'enjoy'-does it involve anyone else doing something that I would define as 'dying'?'

Pan was still grinning. 'Why don't you wait and see?'

'Why don't you just _stay _dead?' She snarled the words without meaning to, but that didn't matter. What mattered was finding something with which to force death upon the smug, stupid, _arrogant _vampire before her. And there was nothing. Not even a splinter with which to stab him, although having tried that in the past Cassandra was not keen to repeat the experience.

'Because it is so terribly _boring. _Would you like me to show you how exasperating it is?' His eyes slid pointedly towards her neck.

She tried edging away, but there was nowhere to edge to. 'I think I'll give it a miss.'

Pan shrugged. 'I'll see you when the masked dance, then.' And then there was only grey smoke that filtered away through the open window and into the night. She slammed the window shut behind it. She'd always loathed the vampiric trick of turning to smoke at will. Due to her profession she found it disturbing. _Chemicals _smoked. Vampires flew. It seemed an important distinction to her. Even bats had a little dignity.

_What the hells do I do now? Exactly what I didn't do last time, I suppose._

Which was how Cassandra found herself explaining Pan's resurrection to Vimes in the morning light.

'It's too early in the morning for this, constable.'

'Never too early for crime sir.'

Vimes sighed. 'Look, it's not as though we can arrest him. He hasn't done anything yet, and much as I'd like to pre-emptively arrest people we'd have the entire population of the city in here.'

'We _can _arrest him. The warrant for the murderer of those seamstresses is still outstanding. He never _was _arrested as such. He died first.'

Vimes gave her a look that was only a few degrees away from pride. 'I suppose you realise that you think like a copper?'

'Oh yes.'

Vimes grunted. 'Fine. If you can _find _him, you can arrest him. But unless he starts killing again I can't spare the men to attempt tracking him down.'

'I don't think you'll have to. When he left he told me he'd see me later. 'When the masked dance', he said. So we just have to figure out what he meant.'

Vimes and Carrot just looked blank. Angua rolled her eyes. 'Isn't it obvious? A masked ball. Wouldn't that be his kind of style?'

Cassandra groaned. 'Everyone assuming a new, mysterious identity? Evening dress? Women with bare necks? Sounds like his style.'

Angua raised an eyebrow. 'Well then, all we need do is wait. It sounds like he intends you to attend it, at any rate. You'll just have to take handcuffs with you.'

Nobby, who had walked in at the wrong moment, snorted loudly and abruptly left the room.

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	8. Chapter 8

**A LOT of banter between Pan and Cass, enjoy. **

Cassandra was back at Mrs Cakes' after Vimes had told her that any vampire looking that pale was asking to be relieved of undead status. She was irritated. Normally she enjoyed solitude. She didn't need people around all the time, she didn't _want _to be in a permanent crowd. But today, today she wanted someone else there because then she wouldn't be alone and anticipating the arrival of Pan.

_'Pining for me? How sweet, my dear seer. '_

She sighed. 'I am _not _your dear. Your _death _perhaps. And don't think that this is impressive. I've figured it out '

_'Why don't you tell me how clever you've been then? Prove it.'_

'Like everything to do with you it's all down to blood. So...you used mine to resurrect, as well as having _converted_ me previously. That has, presumably, created some kind of mental link. Which you are now exploiting. Too afraid to taunt me in person?'

_'Oh how very disappointing. I'd hoped I might keep you guessing for a little while longer.'_

'What are you going to do now? Start killing again?'

_'Give me some credit. Repeating all that, whilst fun, would be unoriginal. No, I have something else to occupy myself with. No one will die if they just act sensibly. And if _you_ act sensibly the rewards will be great.'_

'I killed you once before.'

_'Technically you didn't though, did you? It was all an accident. Perhaps a wilful accident, but you didn't actually strike the final blow. Or make the final stab, as it were.'_

'Gods knew, I tried.'

_'And failed. You are _very _good at that.'_

Cassandra glared at nothing. 'I thought we wouldn't meet until the masked dance? Still haven't quite mastered being cryptic, have you? We figured it out in seconds.'

_'On the contrary I have perfected being cryptic, as you put it. 'We'-relying on others now? You shouldn't do that. They'll let you down in the end.'_

'Like I'm afraid of that.'

_'Oh but you are. Because, inevitably they will die. And you won't. And what you really want is someone as immortal as you, someone who doesn't care for humanity, or those sections of society without a pulse.'_

'Stop it.'

_'Oh very well. I'll leave you to think about everything then. And I will see you in a week's time, at 23 Scoone Avenue. In the evening. When the masked dance.'_

If Cassandra could have lashed out at a disembodied voice she would have. And she recognized Scoone Avenue. _Vimes _house was somewhere up there. It was the upper-class end of town. Every property there came with grounds that a cartographer could get lost in.

_One more week and then...then something will happen. Knowing Pan something monumental._


	9. Chapter 9

'It's going to be a week yesterday. Whatever he's doing is going to happen then. In Scoone Avenue.'

Angua raised an eyebrow. 'He told you this? And you didn't try to arrest him? Or at least do him actual bodily harm?'

'I...couldn't get near him. The _point _is that we _know _when and where we can get him.'

'You think Vimes is going to go for that? You _know _how over-worked we are, and we don't even _know _if he's really...'

'Really _what? _Back? Or have I just been inhaling mercury fumes? Again.' Cassandra realised this was not the kind of confession which made for a successful argument. 'Vimes doesn't like vampires and he doesn't like murderers. Pan is both.'

Upon seeing Vimes, however, her grand persuasion amounted to nothing.

'Has he been killing again?'

'Not that I know of.'

Vimes sighed. 'I appreciate that you want to see him suffer for what he's done, but you can hardly expect to get anywhere by challenging him in a situation which _he has set up.'_

'Got to challenge him at some point.'

'Vetinari decreed last night that we can't arrest people for crimes committed before they died. Even if they don't stay dead. I believe Mr Slant had something to do with the forging of this new law. We can't do it. It's the law.'

Cassandra cursed mentally. _What are the odds that Pan happens to know a certain zombie lawyer? _Outwardly she said, 'that's not justice.' She could almost see Vimes' inner battle.

'Be patient. Wait until he does something stupid and the gods know we'll throw the book at him then. Sorry. And _don't _go to the ball. In fact as of now I ban every officer from going _near _23 Scoone Avenue.'

'What about you?'

'I live miles away.'

'What, even though it's on the same _street?'_

'Upper class residences have very little use for distances under a few acres. I mean it constable. Stay away.'

'Can't sir.'

_'Constable.'_

She had the good sense not to roll her eyes too obviously. 'I'll refrain from having anything to do with a certain masquerade ball.' _Unless I really want to get involved. Which I do._

'Thank you. And Cass?'

_Another one calling me Cass. What has Angua done? _She had been at the door, but turned. 'Yes?'

'When you _do _find yourself _accidently _at number 23, don't act like a damn fool. I don't want to be advertising for a new alchemist, and Reg will mope.'

Cassandra smiled. 'Of course I won't sir.'


	10. Chapter 10

**Just a chapter to stop myself from heading straight into the realms of Pandom again. Next chapter will be better. **

'Something wrong?'

'Nothing Reg.' _Today the week is up. And I should be preparing for sheer carnage tonight. And what am I _actually _doing? Oh, just going to a Fresh Start meeting. Why? Because I am trying to maintain an illusion of normality, or at least _my _normality. Which isn't very normal. _

They reached Elm Street, and ascended into the home of the Fresh Start, where dead misfits went to share the oddness. Cassandra had found it astonishing that even when her mortal status changed she still seemed to find herself in the company of people the rest of humanity saved their special sneers for. The ones who would always be freaks, even if they were entirely human, due to a certain frame of mind. Those life trampled on because it knew they wouldn't protest.

And all she could think of was Pan. _He hasn't actually done anything yet. That's hardly the point, but no one has died this time, not yet. The point is that someone will die, sooner or later, and people have already perished because you didn't say anything. Besides if you do nothing he'll keep talking to you. And I'm sick of waiting to hear his voice on the wind. Sick of hearing snide comments that don't originate from my own mind. _

_And am I prepared to face him down again? Of course not. There's nothing I can do. He controls everything, all I can do is do what is expected of me until I'm obedient enough to make defiance deadly enough._

She shrugged and tried very hard to concentrate on another meeting where the main topic of conversation was how to chase normality in a vitalist society.


	11. Chapter 11

All she could think was, _Pan is playing games_. Her theory was proved right when she found the...costume. That was the only word she could think of for the assembled items she found in her room in Mrs Cake's. There was a note too.

_Cassandra you shall go to the masquerade ball. Tonight._

She screwed it up, tossed it across the room and began considering the _gifts_. There was a black dress with long flowing sleeves, obviously formal and presumably expensive, with black lace overlaying the silken material. Having had little experience of balls, masked or not, she guessed it was the kind of thing you were expected to wear. It was certainly a far cry from a Watch uniform, or the drab clothing of alchemists. There was also a silver choker, inlaid with oval rubies. Cassandra wrinkled her nose. She disliked rubies, for no other reason than their ostentatious display of wealth. And the colour. Red was just too stereotypical for a vampire. The choker was about to join the note on the other side of room when she saw the tiny label affixed to it.

_Please don't do that Cassandra. No admission without finery, and besides it will hide the perfect scars I left. _

Her fist clenched around the jewels, and she considered throwing it away anyway, but thought better of it. If Pan wanted to play games then she would obey the rules until she had a good reason not to. Like the opportunity to break his nose in the name of the law.

So...the last little item. A mask. It was one of those that stopped at the nose, only covering half the face. It was also a deep red, matching the rubies. And that was it. There was no other decoration. Just a smooth red mask, that left her mouth, and hence elongated canines, visible.

Cassandra almost attempted to look at herself in the mirror when she was wearing it all, including the despised choker. And then remembered what a pointless exercise _that _was. No reflection. She shrugged. It hardly mattered. What mattered was going to the ball and assaulting the handsome prince, or rather the suave vampire.

The irritating thing that really terrified her was that she had no idea what he was doing, why, or if she was being lured to her own death. And what she hated more than anything was the fact that she would go anyway because she hated him enough to seek him out at the very end of the world, if only to blame him for it.

_So...Scoone Avenue. _She shook her head as she adjusted the mask. _Alone. Because that's the way these things have to go. Normally because the heroine is trying to be independent and incidentally making a fool of herself. But this time because Pan will kill anyone I take with me and the Watch isn't good at disguise, quite apart from the fact that they have been forbidden from getting involved. Besides I don't need other people. I can take care of myself. _The independence handicap reared its ugly head.

_He isn't going to fall for holy water again. Or a stake. Besides there's nothing to hide them in. This outfit isn't designed for vampire-slaying. So...plan M. _She grabbed a large slither of dull silver metal. _It'll have to do._

Creeping out of her lodgings, masked and bejewelled, she strode towards Ankh.


	12. Chapter 12

**Masquerade, at last. Enjoy-for me this is an exceedingly long chapter.**

23 Scoone Avenue was brilliant with candlelight. The marble hall shone like a second sun, come to compete with the moon. Great, ornate pillars studded the room, and a sweeping staircase dominated the far end of the room. Hundreds of people occupied it.

The ball was exactly as she had imagined it. Keeping a low profile was easy amongst the immense crowd of elegantly dressed, masked, people, most of whom were dancing. It unnerved Cassandra. It wasn't all the couples spinning back and forth, it was the clockwork pattern of e_very single dancer _as they twirled, every move every person made in perfect synchronisation with the rest of the room. Normal people made mistakes, normal people stumbled, or moved with too much haste, or let their attention wander. That was _human. _The dancers _weren't. _Trying not to look too obvious she studied them. You could tell, after close observation, the whole scene was being controlled by vampires. It was too neat, too precise. Although as far as she could judge the majority of the guests _were _human, many weren't and these few would be more than enough to control the rest.

_Oh good-Pan's been making friends. Just what I need._ Which was when she realised that there _was _a difference between her and the rest of the guests. She was both the only one in black and the only one wearing something that obscured even a fraction of the neck. _Is that some kind of signal to the other vampires? That I'm Pan's? _She wrinkled her nose in disgust and considered removing the choker, but decided against it on the basis of the fact that anything between her neck and the rest of the world, was, at this point, a good thing.

Lingering in an alcove that she prayed wasn't too prominent her gaze flitted from mask to mask, looking for Pan. She doubted he would be in amongst the guests, for her to find so easily. It would be so much more like him to be somewhere above, beyond the grand central staircase, watching her and laughing. Yards away the dancers continued. She watched them for a few seconds, each clockwork movement repulsively perfect.

Cassandra was woken from her trance by a silken voice, so attractive as to make her cautious of the owner.

'Would you like to dance, madam?'

Turning slowly and with a certain amount of trepidation to face a man with long dark hair and _blue _eyes behind a mask crafted to look like an extremely stylised magpie. _He can't be Pan. Pan has green eyes. It's okay, just be polite, make your excuses and then walk away. _

I, um, I don't dance.' He _was _a vampire though, the skin tone had that etheral paleness. And he wasn't one of the masked dancers with the eerie movements. _Look at what they turn normal people into. Mere puppets._

'Then whatever are you doing here?' He smiled. 'Don't you want to join the masses?'

'I've never really _been _a part of the crowd. If you'll excuse me...' Enough was enough, she was going to find Pan, and when she did she was going to do something regrettable that she had no intention of regretting. And _then _she was going to stride right into the middle of the ballroom and tell everyone else to _go home _and stop acting like zombies. She winced as she thought of Reg, amending "zombies" to "mindless drones, with or without vital signs".

A hand snapped out and grabbed her wrist. The vampire still sounded pleasant and polite, though. 'I wouldn't leave quite yet. Pan is simply _dying _to see you.' He snapped his fingers and _every single _person who had been dancing turned to face her, eyes glaring blankly out of various masks, glimmering as they caught the light. The sudden stillness was more frightening than the incessant motion.

'Nice trick,' she muttered, struggling to break his vice-like grip.

'I like to think so.' The magpie grinned at her, the smile feral and intimidating thanks to the fangs. He let go of her wrist and added, 'you'll see him very soon,' before disappearing into the throng of people, which had resumed spinning across the floor and cessed glaring.

Cassandra glared after him whilst massaging her wrist. _Does anyone here NOT know who I am? I'm not waiting here to meet another one like that._

Striding straight across the middle of the room, heading for the grand staircase and pushing through couples, she saw more abnormally pale people watching her with amused interest. Ignoring them seemed to be the only way she'd progress. She could hardly be expected to indulge in vaguely threatening and knowing conversation with every bloodsucker in the vicinity. _One _ was too many, and there were scores of masked vampires witnessing her progress.

She was halfway up the stairs before Pan appeared at the top and halted her ascension. He, too, was in black.

'You look divine.'

'You look like hell.'

He laughed. 'Like one of its finest princes, I hope.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Delusions of grandeur? How fitting.' _How can he be the only person I know who can pull off not wearing a mask at a masquerade ball? _

'Hardly delusions, are they? When we stand here, in the best your city has to offer?'

She shrugged. 'What's the point? Just get that over so I can kill you, please?'

He smirked. 'You're an officer of the Watch, and I've done nothing wrong. That would make you a _murderer.'_

'I _knew _you must know Slant!'

'He's an acquaintance of mine, yes. I was at his execution, as a matter of fact. And the point is a mere social function that I thought you should attend. No one has been hurt.' She could almost hear him adding _yet._

'A mere social function?'

Pan rolled his eyes. 'Oh _alright, _there is a purpose to it all, but I'm afraid that purpose has not quite been decided. We are all waiting for you to choose, Cassandra.'

She frowned, before turning as a dark certainty crossed her mind. _Oh yes. _Yet again everyone below had stopped and was watching her with a malavolent intentness. She turned back to Pan. 'This choice...you've offered it to me before, haven't you?'

'Yes. But I've had a second chance, so I thought I'd be _charitable, _and give you the same opportunity_. _As I've said before the rewards could be great.'

She groaned inwardly. 'Stop. Now. I know exactly where this is going, so just stop talking. You were going to say I can join you, accept the lifestyle of the _classic _vampire, give up alchemy for a certain inert fluid-'

'Just say blood.'

She scowled at the word. 'Or I can refuse and you'll throw me back out onto the street.' _Please let it be that, I know it's unlikely you'll do something so merciful but there's always hope. _'In which case I have to tell you I'm quite satisfied with my current life, and don't need all that murderous nonsense.'

His smile hadn't faltered, even for a second. He just looked amused. 'Somehow I thought you'd say that. AndI have to say that you are correct in all but one aspect. I won't be so crass as to eject you from this residence. That would be _impolite. _No, we'll just kill you.'

'WHAT? You can't just say that like that.' Cassandra honestly hadn't expected him to say something so _crude. _The intent, yes she had expected _that, _but just _saying _it like that, like she was nothing...She reached up to her mask and retrieved the strip of magnesium she had concealed behind it back in Elm Street. _At least I can go out with a blinding light..._

'You said virtually the same thing to me only minutes ago, and in a far less polite tone, I might add.'

'But you're _evil. _Killing you is practically a service to society.' She edged towards a candle. _Keep arguing, hope that he doesn't notice..._

'Come away from the flames, seer. And evil is just a matter of perspective.'

'Would you stop calling me "seer"? My _name _is _Cassandra. _In fact to _you _I am Constable Larimar.'

He rolled his eyes. 'Fine. _Constable _would you kindly move away from that candle.'

'Of course.' She extended an arm over the flame, holding the metal for a second until it burned, swiftly and brightly, and then stepping behind a pillar, for all the good it would do, as bright light scoured the room.

When she looked around Pan was still standing, and not the pile of ash she had hoped for.

He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed his fellow vampires, all of whom were smoking heaps of grey. 'Oh dear. What _shall _I do?' He looked up sharply. 'Did you _really _think I'd be dispatched so easily? How insulting.' He sighed. 'You should have tried destroying the whole building, at least if that didn't work it would still look impressive. But you _can't, _can you, because that would hurt _normal _people, people you insist on being good.' He was descending towards her as she watched. She backed away, only to find the previously immobile dancers disallowing her egress. Why her?

'Something wrong? No colleagues to save you this time? What a shame, you've never been a maverick before in your whole _life, _and then you choose the one timewhen it's going to get you killed.'

Frantically she tried actually _throwing _herself into the crowd, but to no avail. They just stood, masked, impassive, watching her without emotion. _I don't want to die, not properly, don't just let me go like this. _She almost screamed at them, but that was too undignified, she was _not _going to spend her final moments in hysterics while hundreds of perfectly ordinary and very normal people watched her _die, _without even trying to help_._

So Cassandra turned back to Pan, standing as still as those behind her as he rips the choker from her neck, still grinning. She glares up at him as he says 'you never did like rubies, did you?' And then she turns her face away, leaving her neck exposed, closes her eyes, rips the mask off and doesn't even cry out as he bites.

And then, in front of the fine lords and ladies of Ankh-Morpork, she crumples lifeless to the marble floor, two circular puncture marks still weeping blood. 

**And as ever I want reviews! Please, please, please-I really don't know if I like this chapter or not-I'm not sure it's turned out as I would like. So let me know what you think-how was Cassandra's death? **


	13. Chapter 13

**What we've all been waiting for...**

Death stands up. He's been watching the whole thing.

YOU WERE RATHER BRAVE IN THE END.

'Thank you.' _It wasn't supposed to end like this. _

QUIETLY DIGNIFIED. YOU WOULD BE SURPRISED AT HOW MANY PEOPLE LOSE THEIR DIGINITY IN THEIR DYING MOMENTS.

'I didn't want to die...' _I never believed I actually would, not until the last few seconds. Oh, I knew that he was _capable _of that, I even thought that I would die, but somehow I never quite believed it. Not quite. I mean, I survived _alchemy. _A vampire should have been easy._

HARDLY ANYONE DOES. BUT THEY ALL DO.

'I wasn't even _old. _I haven't even been a vampire long.'

I'M SORRY.

'I was going to have a _life, _for the first time since I became undead. I was going to have a _career, _and finally perfect alchemy. I was going to get _gold, _from base metals.' Cassandra quite wanted to cry, but there really wasn't much point now, and besides she hardly had tear ducts in this shadow form.

WITH LIFE COMES DEATH.

'Yes, but preferably not so close together.'

Death nods. I UNDERSTAND THAT MOST PEOPLE TAKE THAT VIEW, REGARDLESS OF THE TEMPORAL DISTANCE.

'But I'm _different.' _It probably wasn't the best thing to do, but she glared at Death anyway.

THEY SAY THAT, TOO.

She sighed and gave up. 'I suppose that anything I say next you'll have heard before?'

PROBABLY.

'So I stand no chance of being original?'

THAT'S NO EXCUSE FOR NOT TRYING.

She smiled slightly. 'Well then-I was a member of a club for the differently alive, an alchemist in the Watch, and a werewolf got me that job, at last count I'd survived 176 explosions of all sizes and causes and...oh yes, it appears I was in a relationship with a zombie. And now I've been murdered _twice _by the same person, the last time at a _masked ball.' _She looked at him with raised eyebrows, her head slanted to one side. 'Heard that before, I suppose?'

NO, ACTUALLY. ALTHOUGH I HAVE HEARD VAGUELY SIMILAR ACCOUNTS FROM THE RECENTLY DECEASED.

She snorted. 'Yes, only if'd they'd been taking some illicit substances.' Curiosity took over. 'Were you there that other night too? The first time I was...bitten?'

I'VE MET YOU BEFORE, YES. IT WAS RAINING, WASN'T IT?

'Of course. It always rains on nights like that. I never saw you.'

YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO. IT WAS ENOUGH THAT _I_ COULD SEE _YOU._

The shade of Cassandra sighs. 'Am I really dead? I'm a vampire-we don't _do _permanent death, as such.'

Death shrugged. AS FAR AS I KNOW A VAMPIRE HAS NEVER DRUNK ANOTHER VAMPIRE'S BLOOD. WHO KNOWS WHETHER YOU ARE ACTUALLY DEAD?

Her head snapped up. 'So...' she indicated her currently uninhabited body, lying between them, 'I could be alive?' The strange thing was that, whilst she could clearly see her body, the mask, and the wretched jewels, she couldn't see the ballroom, or the inhabitants.

I THINK THIS IS ONE OF THOSE BORDERLINE CASES WHERE IT IS UP TO MY DISCRETION. Cassandra could have sworn one of the stars in his eye socket wavered for a moment, as though he were blinking. AND I SAY YOU MAY LIVE...FOR NOW. I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN, THOUGH. I SEE EVERYONE EVENTUALLY. EVEN THE IMMORTAL.

Death smiles (as much as a skull can out of choice) as she fades back into her body. He's always had a soft spot for alchemists. There was something about the way they pursued immortality and gold so fervently, so recklessly, that was typical of life. Also, due to the nature of their work he's met many, many alchemists over the years, and was quite fond of their odd little ways, like raving about gold despite the fact that gold is clearly no longer relevant to their existence.

Besides this one sounded as though her life would make a good story when it was written in the great room of biographies. He makes a note to look her book up when he returned to his domain.

**I couldn't resist. As ever I would love reviews.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Apologies for the Igor lisping but it's one of the rules of the Disc so I feel compelled to stick to it-even when it's difficult-the word discuss becomes a nightmare, as does assailant. Sorry about that.**

Cassandra awoke in the world of the living. To find herself no longer in the ballroom, but in the Watch's morgue, with an Igor looking at her intently.

'I told Vimeth you weren't totally dead!'

'How the hells did I get here?' She really wasn't in the mood to make polite conversation about the finer detail of her mortal status. Her neck hurt, amongst other things.

'Thomeone left you outthide the Watch-houthe.'

'That _arrogant, murdering-' _Cassandra stopped herself before she fell into a linguistic sewer. 'He dumped me here for you all to find? Just because he could?'

Igor gave her a careful look. 'I am gueththing you are talking of your...aththailant?'

'_Murderer. _I met Death.' She realised she did not sound conventionally sane at this point. '_Pan. _Look where's Vimes? Pan has definitely commited a crime now, so we can go and _arrest _him.'

'Vimeth ith in hith office dithcuththing your recent demithe with many of the officerth.'

'Then it's time to tell them all of my _re_mise. I'm as alive as I have been recently and the very best person to talk to about it.'

'One thing conthtable?'

'Yes?'

'Vimeth ith currently quite extraordinarily piththed off with you. Apparently he told you not to get killed.'

'Actually he just said not to act like a fool. And I didn't act foolishly. So that's okay.' It wouldn't be, she knew that, but she was intending to go for the sympathy vote. Dying had to be good for _something, _other than a quick lie-down in a mortuary slab. She frowned. 'Igor?'

'Yeth?'

'Ever worked for vampires before?'

'A few timeth.'

'So...have any of the them ever died, not turned to ash, and come back?'

'No. They alwayth turn into dutht. You're the firtht to do thomething like thith.'

'Ah. How's Reg?'

'Very upthet. He and Visit were the oneth who found you.'

'Oh. That's...horrible.' _That's Pan. _

'Cathth?'

For a moment Cassandra just looked at Igor blankly before figuring out that he must have meant _Cass. I'm offically going to kill Angua as practice before finding Pan..._

'Yeth? I mean yes?'

'Are you trying to delay theeing Vimeth?'

'Obviously not. In fact I'm going right now.' Somewhat slowly she left the room. It was going to be embarrassing, telling everyone she'd _died. Again._


	15. Chapter 15

She knocked before entering Vimes' office. No one even looked up until she coughed and said 'You can stop theorising now. I'm, um, I'm alive again. I guess.'

Vimes stared at her, cigar alight, for a few seconds before saying, 'what the hells are you doing here? You're _supposed _to be dead.'

'Is that a complaint? Can't keep a good alchemist down sir.'

'You had no _pulse.'_

She shrugged. 'Haven't in a while. If you're going to go down that route then we can go and arrest Pan for murder, right?'

Vimes glared. Carrot just gawped. Angua seemed to be pulling a particularly serious face in an attempt to hide the fact that she was really laughing. Visit looked as though he was finding solace in Om. And Reg...

'Sorry.' She bit her lip. 'I _couldn't _not go. If I didn't it would be w_orse, _he would have _made _it worse. This way I got it over with, this way I had some control over it, potentially at least. I thought-'

Vimes interrupted. 'You thought you could cope with him alone. Despite direct orders to stay away.'

She looked him in the eye. 'Does Vetinari say that to you, sir?' For a moment she thought she might be fired on the spot, but then the scowl flickered.

'These appear to be yours.' He tossed the mask and choker at her. She caught them instinctively.

'Oh. Did he leave these too?'

'Yes.'

She nodded, strode to the door and threw both items into one of the paper mountains the Watch chose to believe was a filing system. 'Anyone who wants them can go and fish them out.' She was grinning, despite herself. It felt brilliant to be _alive _(or at least fractionally so) again. Admittedly she ached all over, and felt slightly light-headed, but that was just the blood loss talking. She could ignore _that._

'What are we charging him with?'

Vimes gave her a disbelieving look. 'Are you seriously considering that we'll let _you_ go out and arrest him?'

'I think I'll have to have back-up.'

Vimes seemed to give up. 'Assaulting a Watch officer with intent to remove immortal status.'

She laughed. 'I'd imagine that's a new one.'

'You'd be surprised. Have you any _idea _how difficult you made the last few hours for everyone? We were beginning an investigation into one of our own _knowing _that what they had done was synonymous with _suicide._'

_Shouldn't have laughed. At least Reg looks a little less downcast. _'I shouldn't have done it, but it was the lesser of two evils. He would have killed me sooner or later, at least this way I didn't die _properly_.'

'You almost fooled Igor.'

'I've never ended up in a coffin yet. Now what are we going to do about Pan? He told me Slant changed the law for him, he's been playing _games _with the entire Watch, not just me, but now he _has _committed a crime.' She gestured at her neck.

Vimes blew a smoke ring. 'This time, at least, he hasn't been so clever. Angua has tracked him down. He's still at 23 Scoone Avenue. He's _waiting _for us.'

'Oh. That's not good.'

'No. Carrot, if you'd like to tell our recently decrypted colleague the plan?'

Carrot smiled. Cassandra had never seen him _not _smiling, not for any length of time, anyway. 'We are going to enter the dwelling and apprehend those inside .'

She turned back to Vimes. 'So we're just going to barge in and arrest anyone who happens to be there?'

'That's about it, yes.'

'I _like _it.'

'Good. Because you will be part of the force sent to arrest our thirsty friend, corporal.'

Cassandra had to replay that moment in her head. _'What?'_

Vimes smiled slightly mirthlessly. 'You heard. Consider it a promotion for devotion to the job that not only borders on foolishness but crosses the border into stupidity for good measure. And of course for remaining diligent even after death. But mostly as a reminder _never to do that again. _Or you'll never see another rank.'


	16. Chapter 16

**No I did not invent the word 'bathos'-it's just an extremely underused word. I'm not at all sure about this chapter, but it seemed the only way I could take the story so I went with it, like always.**

There were no dancers this time. Just a great darkness that seemed to pull the members of the Watch in, begging for people. It was dark too, the candles having been allowed to go out. In the silence the soft sound of Angua padding across the marble as a golden wolf echoed.

Masks littered the floor like leaves, in drifts or lying alone and forlorn. Occasionally they were punctuated with small piles of ash. Cassandra was beginning to regret her zeal in getting revenge on Pan. He might have murdered her, _twice, _but perhaps they should have waited, just a little longer and not blundered into 23 Scoone Avenue tonight. It felt like a crypt. Considering it had been occupied by many vampires extremely recently it could probably be accurately considered a crypt anyway. She shivered. Every other officer was clutching garlic, holy water, _stakes, _although after last time she doubted the usefulness of stakes, considering you actually had to stab the slimy jerk, which was harder than it looked. All she had was the many chemicals she could guarantee would explode in a tight corner, which meant the other officers were also giving her a wide berth.

Nobby fell up the staircase in the dark. Muffled swearing issued until Vimes silenced him.

_'What's the matter Cassandra? I thought you were dead. Why did you bring all these people? Did you want to lead them to their deaths? Isn't that worse than what I do? You should have come alone. Then I couldn't have hurt them. I will kill you, you must know that. Third time lucky. And when I've done _that _perhaps I'll find someone else to convert. Wouldn't that be fun? You've even bought me a selection to choose from.'_

'Anyone else hear that?' She whispered it, to recieve shaking heads from her comrades. 'I don't think we should be here...' _Just leave now, please. He's right. _Cautiously she climbed the staircase, without tripping. She had excellent night vision, courtesy of Pan. When she looked around only Angua was with her, the rest of the Watch still stationed around the marble hall. 'Go _back.' _

The wolf growled dissent. Cassandra sighed. 'Tell Vimes he's not here. I know you could smell a vampire here, but there were so many, it's just remnants, they're _gone.'_

This time the growl's inflections indicated doubt.

'_Please._ It's important. And then...then tell them to leave, immediately. _' _The werewolf gave her a look and turned to find Vimes. 'Thank you.' Cassandra carried on her ascent, onto a landing full of closed doors. She prowled the corridor, silent and ghostly, until she found an open door.

'Welcome.' Green eyes burned in the dark.

She sighed. 'Hardly.'

'Oh, but you know what I mean. What _is _it with you? You're lucky enough to survive and you _still _come back. It would be pathetic if it weren't so entertaining.'

'That's me. A paragon of bathos.' She hadn't moved from the doorway, and he hadn't emerged from the darkness. She had a solution, even if it was too basic to be called a plan. It would hurt, she knew that much, and she would have to pray that Pan's old-fashioned vampirism extended to staying dead if the death was creative, and, importantly, _messy _enough. Even then, she knew he would probably come back. She'd found a way, after all. It was simple. But then again she was so very different to him. Someone had once told her that there were many kinds of vampire. So there could be many ways of killing them that weren't effective on certain members of the species. _Keep thinking that and you might believe it. Truth in acid. _She almost laughed, as she retrived certain items from several pockets. They clinked soothingly in her hands.

'What _are _you doing now, seer?'

She stepped into the room. 'Bringing light into dark places. Bringing the law to you. You know I've always hated being called that. Did you think you'd drive me mad like Fedecks did her? I'm no seer.' She smiled. 'I'm an alchemist.'

He had risen from the shadows and was gazing at her with vaguely bored amusement. 'l could hardly drive you mad when you started out insane now, could I?'

'Insane, me?' She was still smiling at him. _I hope the Watch all have the good sense to run._ She bought the vials together, felt the glass shatter and the contents rain down, felt the silver fire as it filled the room in an instant, and saw astonishment on Pan's smug face.

Then it was just a matter of putting the pieces back together. Golems were trying to extinguish 23 Scoone Avenue when Cassandra staggered out, in a tattered ball gown and wreathed in smoke, to join the watching Watch. Reg kept looking skyward as debris floated downwards, nervous in the presence of so many flames.

Vimes snatched a burning mask out of the air and lit a cigar with it. 'What happened there?'

'I was following Sergeant Angua out when I tripped on the stairs and the chemicals I was carrying got out of hand.'

'Right. I thought vampires had perfect night vision?'

'I'm clumsy.'

'And the fact that the explosion occurred several minutes after Angua had left?'

'I took a long time to fall, sir?'

'Also, as I saw it you were _ascending _rather than _descending.'_

'Trick of the light, sir.'

'There _wasn't _any.'

'Trick of the dark?'

Vimes rolled his eyes. 'Glad to see you've embraced the finest and oldest Watch tradition, that of never, ever telling the truth to your superiors if _you _happen to consider your actions justified.'

'Sir?' She grinned.

'Just as well you're experienced at the aftermath of explosions then. I don't imagine anyone unused to that kind of thing would have been able to recover in time to escape the fire.'

'I doubt it. Vampire alchemists are the most indestructible beings known to the multiverse sir.'

'Indeed.'

They watched until the golems finally left, leaving the mansion smoking, but bereft of any actual flames.


	17. Chapter 17

**I've gone to great lengths to avoid another overly sweet ending. Enjoy-I don't **_**think **_**there will be a sequel anytime soon. But you never know-it's happened before...**

Two weeks had passed since then. Cassandra had wondered at the normality of them-no more voices on the wind, no more murderous vampires, no more masquerade balls, just the usual fights in the Mended Drum, which she was beginning to regard as standard. _And _she was a corporal, which meant she was technically his superior. That was...fun. In view of the fact that she hadn't _actually _died, permanently, he'd even forgiven her for going alone to the masked ball and getting herself murdered. Although she wasn't entirely convinced that it was normal for a couple to argue about that kind of thing.

She had a feeling that everyone would be calling her Cass forever, though. Angua had definitely succeeded there.

Pseudopolis Yard was never empty, so she had officers to question when, late one night, she found a ruby choker on the workbench. For a while she just stared at it. Striding out into the main office she waved it at the officers present. 'Anyone find this is the paper piles? It's not funny.' They just looked at her blankly.

Carrot was the only one who spoke. 'You know no one sifts through all that paper unless someone hasn't been seen in a few days.'

She almost bit her lip. 'But I threw it away. Everyone _saw _me.' "Everyone" shrugged, so she went over to the closest window, opened it, and threw the jewels into the night. For a second they flashed red in the moonlight.

And heard a voice on the wind. _'Don't you care enough to cry for me, Cassandra?'_

She slammed the window shut, closed her eyes and leant against it. Because that wasn't possible.

_'What will you do now, seer?'_

Cassandra's eyes snapped open.

**That's it. The end-I hate the finality of that word. Hope you liked it. Reviews, as ever, would be extremely welcome.**


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